This is Not Babysitting
by Alsike
Summary: Stacey comes home to Stoneybrook when her life is falling apart.  The people she's left behind are ready to comfort her.  But Charlotte Johanssen doesn't need a babysitter anymore.


Stacey's mom was waiting for her when she got off the train in Stamford. She was standing on the platform, looking away, not even watching the doors for her daughter. Stacey sighed, swinging the bag up over her shoulder and heading through the narrow aisle toward the door. She thought of staying on the train, ending up in Buffalo, or Canada, just running away. But that was what she was doing anyway, she might as well run home.

"Hey."

Her mom turned and looked at her coldly. "What a surprise, it's like you never come home."

The stab of guilt was accompanied by the feeling that this treatment was entirely unfair. "It's not as if I go see dad either." Stacey snapped at her. "I just needed to get away from school."

"Well that's what you get for dating your roommate."

Stacey stiffened. "If you don't want me here, I can go somewhere else. The next train's heading to Rhode Island. Claudia always has an open patch of floor for me." This was a lie, but she'd usually make a decent attempt to clear it off at least.

"Were you dating her too?" And then her mom made an active effort to restrain herself. "No. It doesn't matter. I'm glad you came home."

Stacey slumped into the front seat of the car, keeping her bag on her lap as if it were protection. "It doesn't seem like it."

They drove, and Stacey futzed with the radio.

"It was just a shock."

Stacey didn't look at her.

"You were seeing a woman for… for _three years,_ Stacey, and you never even considered mentioning it to me?"

"Two and a half," she muttered. "And I didn't see why I should. I knew you wouldn't understand." She twisted her fingers in the strap of her bag. "It doesn't _mean_ anything. Especially not now."

Her mother looked over at her, pitying her, and Stacey hated her even more. "I'm just… disappointed that it affected your grades."

Stacey hung her head. She couldn't believe that either. She had always been able to handle stuff, her illness, her relationships, her schoolwork. But this time, she had been so lost, so confused and hurt, that she couldn't focus, couldn't think, and it was lucky she hadn't ended up in the hospital. Flunking a few classes was bad enough. At least Claudia had been supportive, but Claudia was acing everything now, and Stacey thought that somehow they had switched places, without anyone bothering to inform her that it was going to happen. Then she laughed, and her mother glanced over at her in surprise.

"It's just… I thought it was a good decision." She laughed again. "I thought it would be less stress than seeing a guy. I didn't think it would… do _this_ to me."

"It was longer than most." Her mother commented.

Stacey wasn't entirely certain what she meant. Longer than most female-female relationships? Or longer than most of Stacey's relationships? Because that was true. It was longer, more intimate, more sexually intense, it was her first real relationship since she had become an adult. Dating in high school was always just dates, struggles for irregular incidental sex. It wasn't _living_ with someone.

"But you haven't… made a lifestyle decision?"

Stacey blinked. "I'm not…" She shook her head. "I'm not planning on dating anyone for a long time." That was a way not to answer. But she didn't want to give the answer that her mother clearly wanted to hear. She _didn't_ want to date women anymore, once bitten and all that, but she wasn't going to give her mother the opportunity to gloat either. And what she had said was true. She wasn't ready to deal with men. And she wasn't ready to make any decisions about what to label herself, not after this mess, not now when all she wanted was to be alone.

xXx

Apparently, to her mother, having her home meant she had someone else to pass the chores onto. Stacey didn't really care. She didn't have anything else to do. Shopping at least got her out of her house and out of her room where she lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling, spinning cylinders around axes in her head and wondering how she could have let herself get so weak as to forget that it was _she_ who was important, that she was the one whose future was at risk, and that a college relationship was nothing for her to get so invested in that she let everything else slide.

In the supermarket she let herself look around, knowing it was just looking, because it couldn't be anything else. She wanted to look at boys, to remember what she had been before this. She couldn't look at girls, not like that, not without her stomach twisting, and wanting to run.

She dropped on a bench in the park to answer her phone. "Hey Claud."

"Hey. How you doing, babe?"

Stacey laughed. "I'm fine. But Stoneybrook blows without you guys."

"Have you looked _anyone _up? I know the cohort's gone, but we did know a vast amount of younger brats who haven't bailed yet."

"I'm not really up for babysitting."

Claudia snorted. "Fine, fine. But seriously, you're not totally moping around, are you? Depression does bad things to blood sugar."

Stacey snorted. "Stop pretending you know anything about anything."

"J's thinking of focusing on Endocrinology. We talk now. I know stuff."

"Whatever."

"I know how much it blows to be dumped."

"Do you know what it's like to ruin your whole life and have your family treat you like you're diseased?"

"Stop describing my high-school experience. It's bringing me down."

Stacey laughed.

"But you're not getting back on the horse."

"No, I'm not."

"This is not pro-active, Stace."

"I don't want it. I'm… I'm so _scared._ You think you _know_ someone, and then they just…"

"Maybe you should try dating someone you _do_ know."

"I hope you're not suggesting yourself."

"Hell no! I do not do the freaky incest thing!"

And that was a relief. Stacey couldn't deal with a confession right now. She was far too broken.

After another laugh, Claudia had to run, and Stacey let her go. She couldn't help being jealous. It wasn't like she had anything to run to do. She had wrecked that part of her life.

"Stacey?"

Stacey glanced up from brooding over her phone and looked at the tall pretty girl, wide brown eyes, long long hair, and a mildly ill-chosen beret that Stacey rather suspected had been her own signature accessory a few years before. She didn't recognize her, too distracted by the brave stance, the set of the girl's narrow shoulders, and the way her tight striped shirt clung to her breasts. She had time for a horrendously uncomfortable realization that she had seen quite a few attractive young men today and none of them had stalled her brain like this, before suddenly, something about the flinch of disappointment on her face, of misery, made it far too obvious who the girl had to be.

"_Charlotte?_" She stood up, gesturing helplessly with her hands. "You're… you're…" she would not say 'hot.' She could not say 'hot,' not about a former babysitting charge who had looked up to her as if she were a dream of a person she could never ever become. "Older," she finished uselessly.

Charlotte smiled, wide and open and honest and oh-so-innocent, and Stacey could never ever give her the real answer to the next question she was sure to ask.

"I flunked out. I mean, my profs told me that I was failing, and I withdrew before I destroyed my transcripts and am going to repeat the semester." And… the question hadn't even been asked yet. Charlotte gaped at her for a moment.

"You left your precognition turned on," she said, with an easy grin, and Stacey couldn't tear her eyes away from it. She placed the quote. Even for the overnights, Charlotte had really stopped needing a sitter when she turned eleven. But sometimes they had gotten together to talk about books and Charlotte had given her some excellent recommendations. She stuck her finger in her ear and twisted it around.

"Sorry."

Charlotte laughed, her cheeks starting to glow with a blush, and Stacey desperately tried to calculate how old she was, and remind herself that she was over girls, she _had_ to be over girls.

"Fifteen," she sputtered out, coming up with the answer, in another astonishingly talented non-sequitor.

"Twenty," Charlotte returned nonplussed but as quick as ever.

"God, I forgot. I can't believe I forgot you'd be here." Charlotte blinked, bemused by this one. "Claudia was just harassing me about not looking anyone up."

Charlotte lifted her hands in a shrug. "I'm still here. Not that you'd want to spend time with any of your ex-charges without getting paid for it. But," she grinned. "I don't need a babysitter anymore."

And somehow that felt like a slap in the face. "I… I never needed to get paid to want to spend time with you."

And Charlotte peered at her, half-hopeful half-tentative, her hair falling in front of her face. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." It was true. Sometimes sitting for Charlotte had been easier than staying at home with her own mother. The Johanssens had always looked at her as if she were a blessing, which was a lot better than being looked at as a trial. Perhaps it was the politeness of two only children, but she and Charlotte had understood each other. They both understood the comfort of being with someone else, while still being allowed to do your own thing.

"Char! What are you doing!" There was a shout from across the park and Vanessa Pike jogged over.

"It's Stacey!"

Vanessa looked at her. "Oh, hey."

"Hey." And that was far more like meeting a former babysitting charge than seeing Charlotte was, mildly awkward, with uncomfortable power relations involved.

"We had plans, Char and us." She gestured behind her to where a few more girls were waiting, one looked like Becca Ramsey, and there was another red-head, probably Margo. "Do you want to come?"

"Oh no." Stacey glanced around. "I have to… get the groceries home."

"Kay. Come on." Vanessa started tugging Charlotte behind her, back towards the other girls. Charlotte glanced over her shoulder to look at Stacey.

"I'll see you…"

"Yeah."

And she smiled, shy and sweet, and Stacey thought she was going to be sick.

xXx

There was a phone call from her dad, waiting at home, saying he had gotten all her things out of the dorm and wanted to know what to do with them. He hadn't run into her roommate. But it made her mother give her that look again.

"How _are_ you doing?"

Stacey shrugged. "I'm fine. I was thinking I might get a job." The proposal did not divert the conversation as she had intended.

"Are you considering trying to date again?"

Stacey opened her mouth to reply. An image dropped into her head, Charlotte, looking at her, amused and still slightly shocked, and she forgot what she had been about to say. "What? No. _No_. Not yet."

Her mother shook her head. "It's just… why don't you want to talk about this? It must have been as difficult for you as it is for me to get your head around-"

Stacey had really had enough. "It _wasn't_, mom! Yeah, I dated tons of boys. But I wasn't blind. I wasn't an idiot. No one giggled and re-spun when the bottle pointed towards another girl. It was a surprise that I ended up dating her, but it's _always _a surprise when something clicks like that. But was it a surprise that I'm attracted to women? No. Was it a surprise that I got off on it?"

"_Stacey!_"

"You _asked_!"

"As long as you're not getting pregnant, I don't need to know anything about your sex life! I just want to know if you're _gay_. Do I have to deal with that, or if this is an aberration that I can forget?"

Stacey stared at her, at her desperate expression. She didn't understand this, at all. "Does it matter?" Shouldn't it only matter to her? She couldn't predict who she would be attracted to next, she could only calculate from what had gone before.

"Yes."

"I'm bi." Stacey shrugged. "But I don't know if that means anything different from 'I'm me' and I want to be with who I'm attracted to." Or not, if that was just totally out of the question. "But I am so not ready to put myself on the line again. I really don't want to think about it anymore."

She left and went upstairs to her room. The bookshelf was still full and she lay back on her bed, with something to read, and couldn't even process a sentence.

An hour or so later her mom came back up and told her that she was going out that night, on a date, and probably wouldn't be back until late morning.

"I didn't need to know that," Stacey said.

"Have a taste of your own medicine," her mother replied dryly. "And someone's here to see you."

"What?"

But Stacey knew who it was going to be before she even got off her bed. She thundered down the stairs.

"Hi." Charlotte stood by the couch, half flushed and still shy. She had changed, comfortable dark jeans and a neat button-down shirt, double armfuls of bracelets, and combat boots of awesome. She was biting nervously at her lower lip, wearing off the sheen of gloss.

"Hi." And Stacey stepped forward, half reaching out as if to pull her into a hug, before she stopped, unable to go through with it. She didn't know whether, if she put her arms around this girl, she would be able to let her go.

"Have fun." Her mom waved and started for the door. "I'm off."

And that just made it feel more like an incredibly awkward date. Charlotte's cheeks flushed brighter.

"Do you want something to drink?"

"You don't… have to. I mean." She hunched her shoulders. "I just showed up."

"I'm glad you did." And she was. The attraction wasn't important. She could handle that, even though it was embarrassing. Being around Charlotte made her remember someone she had only been when they were together, someone who had a person who loved her and needed her. And after the fight this afternoon, after the way she had been feeling for nearly a year, all she wanted to do was to curl up on the couch with that girl and a book to read aloud.

"How have you been?" Stacey called from inside the refrigerator. "You promised to email me at graduation and completely didn't follow through."

"I'm sorry." Her voice was closer than expected and Stacey hit her head on the upper door. Charlotte had followed her in and was leaning on the counter. "I tried a bunch of times, but I never really knew what to say."

"It's all right." She handed her a glass of juice. "I probably wouldn't have responded. First year was crazy, and I dropped _everyone_. I didn't even get in contact with Claudia again until the end of last year."

"Was it really hard?" Charlotte looked down in to her drink. "Everyone's harassing me about applications and SATs, and I don't know if I should be scared."

Stacey laughed. "It's hard, but it's excellent because it's hard. You shouldn't be afraid. I'm sure you'll be fine. And you're probably more emotionally mature than me, so you won't crash and burn."

Charlotte gave her a wry grin and huffed in disbelief. "No one here would agree with you about me being emotionally mature."

"Have you taken up throwing tantrums while I've been gone?"

She laughed. "No!"

"Then of course you're mature. You always were."

Charlotte gave her a 'that is such bullshit look,' and Stacey laughed and led the way back into the living room, dropping onto the couch.

"Read anything good lately? I need recs, since I'm bored out of my skull being out of school."

It was so easy to talk to her, easy to watch her eyes light up when she started in on something she really liked, easy to forget all of the things that had been making her miserable just an hour before. It felt like coming home in a way that even her mother hadn't managed to evoke at all. Time flew until Stacey felt her stomach grumble for solids.

"Do you want to help me cook something, or…" Stacey hesitated, looking at her watch. "Is it late? Do you need to get home?"

Charlotte shook her head. "They're both at the hospital tonight. I'm fending for myself. If it wouldn't be a hassle…"

Stacey smiled. "I could use the company."

They watched a movie, only half paying attention, talking and laughing while they ate, ending up with empty dishes on the table in front of them, half curled up together, the credits playing softly.

Charlotte looked up at her. "You told me that you left school because you were doing badly. You didn't tell me why. I'm pretty certain it's not because you suddenly discovered you were an idiot."

"You're not that far off." Stacey slowly extracted herself. She couldn't talk about this with Charlotte touching her. "It was a bad break up."

And Charlotte's face closed down. Stacey blinked. She had seen that look before. But she had never talked about boys with Charlotte. She had always made the joke that she was _sane_ around Charlotte, and didn't even need to think about boys, since being interested in them was a clear sign of insanity. But perhaps she didn't talk about them because she didn't want to see that look on her face, the look that said Charlotte really did _not_ want to know.

"I let myself get too invested, and, like an idiot, didn't notice that she…"

And suddenly Charlotte was halfway across the couch and staring at her in horror. "_She?_ You had a _girlfriend_?"

Stacey desperately wished she could take back those words. She felt ill and scared and lost. She couldn't bear that look on Charlotte's face. "I'm _not_- I mean, I don't…" She turned away, pulling her knees tightly to her chest.

"_Shit!" _Charlotte hissed, and Stacey whirled.

"What a mouth on you!"

Charlotte looked red and guilty. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean… I was just _surprised_."

"I shouldn't have told you. You didn't need to…" Stacey hung her head. "I'm a mess."

"No." Charlotte's hand slipped into hers and held it tightly. "She hurt you. I don't want to make it worse."

"I'm still a failure. I screwed _everything_ up." Stacey shook her head. "I hate looking like this in front of you. I always wanted to be… worthy, of your respect."

"You _are_!" Charlotte was too fierce, too pretty, too open. She rose up on her knees to admonish Stacey. "I used to think you were perfect, and want to be you. But I haven't been that naïve for a long time. I've seen you deal with hardship. I know what you do when you fail and get down on yourself. But you never give up and run away."

Stacey laughed weakly, mostly at herself. "What do you think I'm doing now?"

Charlotte caught her shoulder and made her look at her. "No! Retreating and regrouping after a clear defeat _isn't_ running away."

She was so intent and honest, her face flushed, and Stacey couldn't look away.

"I _know_ you're not perfect. It doesn't _matter_ because I don't want to be you anymore. I just…"

And she sank down, looking desperate and open, and _begging_ to be kissed.

Stacey reached out and cupped her cheek. "You're too good to me." Charlotte's skin was warm and soft under her hand. Charlotte moved up and towards her, and Stacey met her half way.

xXx

It was supposed to be a chaste kiss, but Charlotte's mouth was soft and pliant, and after a moment her lips parted as she gasped into it. Stacey couldn't help but slip her tongue between them. Charlotte's fingers tangled in her hair, clinging tightly as she kissed her back, desperately. Stacey's hands closed around her back. Her body was lithe and warm, and Stacey clasped her shoulder blades, pulling her close, and letting the ache she had been living with for so long be filled by the fierce girl, who had always been part of her, and was now close enough to really be, her wet tongue curling into her mouth.

She pushed her away. "I'm _sorry_." Charlotte sat in her lap, hurt and helpless. Stacey covered her face. "You don't want me."

"I always have." Charlotte's hand slid over her face, her hair brushing against her skin. She leaned in. "I never thought I'd get to touch you," she murmured into her shoulder. "I never thought I'd even see you again once you left, and I _needed_ to write you. I wanted to so badly. But I couldn't do it without telling you how I felt, and I _couldn't_."

Stacey felt her eyes get wet and she pulled Charlotte tight against her, kissing her head and then her mouth, bruisingly. This time Charlotte didn't let her pull away.

xXx

Charlotte was on her back, looking up at her, eyes dark with desire, and still wide and afraid. Her shirt had come unbuttoned while they were making out, displaying her white lacy bra, cupping very adult breasts, perfect handfuls. Charlotte followed Stacey's gaze to them and looked up, scared. "Are they… alright?"

Stacey's eyes shot up to her face, shocked. "You're _gorgeous."_ She reached out, her hand hesitating before curling around it. "May I?"

Charlotte nodded.

Stacey reached around and unclasped her bra, drawing it off of her. She bent to press a kiss to her clavicle and slid her hands slowly up her sides until she let them curl around the curves of Charlotte's breasts. Then she leaned in, kissing the side before letting her lips and tongue wrap around her nipples. Charlotte gasped, arching, digging her fingers into the cushions.

"You okay?"

"Yeah… yeah." Charlotte was looking at her, still breathing hard, utmost trust in her eyes. "I never thought it was going to feel like that. It wasn't… anything, when I tried myself."

"But this is?" Stacey teased her damp nipple with her fingers and Charlotte squirmed, giving a helpless laugh. Stacey grinned and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

This had gotten way too far. Making out was bad enough, especially since Stacey didn't seem to be able to keep her damn tongue in her head. And they were clearly rounding third base at speed. But she didn't know how to stop it without making Charlotte feel rejected and unattractive.

But even if it was a mistake it had to be better than her first time, drunk in a closet at a party with a boy she couldn't name, her skirt scrunched up around her waist, crumpled and stained. She just needed this to not be a complete disaster. And even if she could remember why she wasn't supposed to touch this beautiful girl, she wasn't sure she could pull away.

She leaned in and kissed her on the soft skin beneath her jaw, and then found her lips. She let her hands find her breasts, touching them softly, teasing and gentle. Charlotte gasped into her mouth and Stacey caught her lower lips between her teeth, drawing it out before releasing it gently.

"Are you wet for me?" The words were out before she could think better of them. She couldn't believe how much she _wanted_ this girl.

"Oh god." Charlotte's arms locked around her neck and her hips pushed up off the bed into her. "_Please."_ Stacey looked at her face, and her eyes were wet. "I can't…"

Stacey's hand moved to the top of her jeans, unfastening them and drawing them down her hips. Charlotte lifted her hips obediently, but turned red. Stacey's hand curled around her hip and she met her eyes. "I'm going to touch you," she said, waiting for a refusal or a protest of any kind. There were none. Her hand slid between her legs, feeling the heat, the tacky cloth of her underwear.

Charlotte's eyes closed tightly. "_Stacey_…"

"I got you," Stacey murmured in her ear, pushing aside the fabric, her fingers dipping into wet heat. Charlotte whimpered. Stacey rubbed her thumb over her clit, resisting parting her and sliding inside. She couldn't do that. She moved gently outside.

"_Please_." Charlotte hissed, her hips bucking into her hand.

"What?"

"_Break_ me. I need it to be you."

"Char…"

And her eyes were open now, wide and certain, and not innocent at all. "No. I _need_ it to be _you_."

Stacey stared for a moment, then leaned in to capture her lips, and pushed in, as gently as she could. Charlotte cried out and pushed up against her, her fingers digging into her arms. She was so hot and tight and Stacey panted into her neck at the feel of it, moving her hand so slowly, unable to get over the pull against her fingers, the pressure of it.

"God, stop _torturing _me," Charlotte mumbled, grinding her hips against Stacey's hand. In response she increased her speed, teasing her clit, and kissing the side of her neck.

"God Charlotte, you're so _gorgeous_ like this. You have no idea how… _fuck_.em_._ I'm so…" _sorry_, was something she couldn't say. _Ready to come by grinding against your leg,_ was another, mainly because it was too complicated to process right then.

And Charlotte was coming in her hands, her body arching, an involuntary sound escaping her, and then she dropped, collapsing limply on the couch, eyes unfocused as the pleasure rolled over her. Stacey kept her arms around her, hovering over her protectively, just watching her.

Finally Charlotte looked up, meeting her gaze. "Hey."

"Hey." And she was smiling, skin glowing with heat and sweat, and still perfect.

"Can I…" And she was climbing on top of Stacey, pushing her down.

"Hey! Woah!" But she was on her back, her shirt half up over her head, and she gave in, letting her pull it off completely. "No recovery time necessary!"

Charlotte's hands were in places _hers_ hadn't been, and her hot skin was pressed against Stacey's bare side. "Nope."

No one said 'that's what you get for screwing fifteen year olds.'

Charlotte was just as excellent a student at sex as she was at everything else.

xXx

It took a moment for Stacey to work out where she was. The tangled head curled into her chest could have been any age, and it smelled unmistakably like Charlotte. Had they just fallen asleep on the couch again while she was babysitting?

Then of course Charlotte purred into her shoulder, and Stacey realized the fact that warm sticky skin was under her hand meant that this had not been like _any_ of the nights she had fallen asleep on the Johanssen's couch.

"Oh, _Christ_."

"Good morning to you too."

Stacey stared at her, absently combing the tangles from her hair with her fingers. "I'm so sorry."

Charlotte looked down. "I'm not."

Stacey sat up, swinging her legs off the couch and pushing off the blanket they had, at some point, dragged off the back of the couch and over them. She couldn't look at her, couldn't be touching her. "You know this can't… can't be _anything_. You could have me _arrested_ for this. Your parents… god, _my_ parents would _murder_ me for this, if they knew."

"I know that. I'm not an _idiot_," Charlotte snapped back. And Stacey wondered if _she _were the one fooling herself, the one who should obviously know better by now.

"I'm still sorry, maybe just for myself." Charlotte snorted, still offended. "Is there… is there anything I can do to make this less shitty for you?"

She shrugged. Then she glanced over at Stacey, pulling the blanket up to cover herself. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you." It was far too easy to say, far too close to the truth.

"All right."

"All _right_?"

"Yeah." Charlotte smiled. "I had my first time with the person I love, who loves me back. What's more storybook than that?"

Stacey stared at her for a long moment, hardly able to breathe, and not at all able to look away. "I can't think of anything."

Stacey offered her a shower, but she shook her head, just getting dressed and quickly brushing her hair. Stacey cleaned up and opened the windows, unsure of when her mother was getting home. She found Charlotte's bracelets in the kitchen where she had removed them to help cook and brought them to her. She paused, watching her tackle the tangles in her hair briskly. She used to do that, not often, but she had done it, tangled her fingers in the fine straight strands, braiding, playing with clips and combs. And now she had threaded her fingers into it, clinging desperately, red imprints still visible in the skin of her fingers, as Charlotte ate her out.

Charlotte put down the brush, glancing over at her. "You're not going to be fooling anyone if you keep looking at me like that." She didn't even blush. Stacey did.

"You're gorgeous," she said, stepping forward to touch her hair gently.

"You don't have to try to make me feel better now." Charlotte stood, stepping away from her. "I'm fine. I can handle it."

And Stacey didn't like the way this girl had grown up, and she was sure it was her fault. "No." She followed her. Charlotte turned, facing her down, but Stacey just moved into her, sliding her hands down her back and over her ass. "I love you. I didn't say that to make you feel better, or to make myself feel better about using you. I would have told you the same thing if you had asked me last night, before anything, before-"

Charlotte kissed her.

"I'm going to wait for you."

"What?" Stacey's eyes widened.

Charlotte shrugged. "You're the one that I want. You want me back. There's no reason to give up." She met Stacey's eyes, directly and unembarrassed. "If the offer's still open, there's one more thing I want too."

"What is it?"

"I want you to wait for me." She set her jaw. "You can do whatever you want, but… that's what _I_ want."

"Okay." And Charlotte smiled, kissing her again, a warm, chaste press of lips. And then she left, and Stacey watched her walk away, wind blowing her hair out behind her.

Stacey's mom came home a few minutes later, and Stacey nearly died, trying to seem innocent while collapsing in relief that Charlotte had already left. It wasn't until a few hours later that she had a chance to disappear up to her room and turn on her computer. She had an email, from Charlotte. "So now that the hard part's out of the way…" read the subject line, and she couldn't help but smile as she read the content.

Her phone rang as she was finishing typing her reply.

"Hi Claud."

"Hi babe!"

"You know how you said that I should get back on the horse, and, um, look up old friends who are still around?"

"_Yeah?_"

Stacey could see the eyebrow-wiggle inherent in the leering tone in her mind's eye.

"I may have… slept with Charlotte Johanssen last night, and I think we're secret-dating."

"All right! I love secret-dating!"

Stacey blinked. "No you don't. You can't keep a secret to save your life."

"I love _vicarious_ secret-dating."

"Wait. Why aren't you freaked about this?"

"Um… it's about time? That girl's had it bad for you since she was _seven_. And you? Not much better."

"Oh, shut _up_, Claudia."

FIN


End file.
